A sad story of a woman dying and being buried in a lone grave on Meeker’s Island is told in a poem of Peter Lott in his book, “Unionville Farmer Poet.”
JUST A LONE GRAVE
On An Island in the Drowned Lands.
About in the year 1867, a family by the name of Carr near Unionville had one of its members, a young woman was taken sick with the small pox. The surrounding neighbors were scared into hysteria, and caused her to be removed to an old house on an island in the drowned lands, which islands is known as Meeker’s Island. As this was once the property of Capt. Samuel Meeker, the old Revolutionary soldier, whom everyone has read of in the battle of Minisink, this house may have been where he lived and died. A man named Tuttle Dunn has wired to take care of her. He had previously had the small pox and was immune to it.
After lingering a few weeks she died. Dunn obtained some boards and made a coffin for her. It took him a day to make it and it was night when he put her body in it and buried her a short distance from the old house. Our Unionville Farmer Poet says “I visited the island a few days ago and saw the grave. As I gazed on the sunken mound, sad thoughts came to my mind. I sat down on a stone and wrote these lines.”
Down on the banks of the Walkill
There is a lone grave.
Just a woman’s lone body lies there
By the river’s rippling wave
With the tread of the lonely hare.
No funeral procession followed her there!
No service was said o’er her form.
No one sang a hymn or made a prayer.
No friends there to weep or to mourn.
No costly casket enclose her breast.
No one in her grave strewed flowers.
Now a lone daisy marks the place of her rest.
Above her head no costly monument towers.
There by the rays of the pale moonlight.
Dunn buried her alone
While stars from Heaven on the
sorrowful sight.
In their sparking lustre shone.
The night owls hoot o’er this lonely mound.
The whipporwill joins with its call.
The wind whispers ‘red softy—
this is sacred ground—
For God watches o’er the great
and the small.
But is the story true?
Now that the Sussex Library system has made their old newspapers available online, I’ve been able to find that the incident did happen, though Lott had some facts wrong.
– It was not 1867 but 1872.
– It was not a girl from the Carr family; her name was Mary Butler and she was apparently engaged to Buckeye Seeley.
– It was not Tuttle Dunn who took care of her.
A short version of the story is in the New York Herald of June 20, 1872, and more is found in an article the New Jersey Herald and Democrat of June 27, 1872. But the most thorough account is found in the Sussex County Independent of June 21, 1872 which I’ll repeat here in it’s entirety:
A FRIGHTFUL AFFAIR.
A Corpse left rotten with the Small-pox four days without burial, food for dogs and cats.
The people in the vicinity of Van Sickles Station seven miles north from this place and one mile south from Unionville, are very much agitated over a recent appearance of a case of the small pox in that locality.
Mrs. Mary Butler, the victim of this dreaded plague, was taken down sick with what was a first supposed the measles, some three weeks since, at her residence near the above place. Her kind neighbors called in great numbers to administer to her wants and aid in the relief of her sufferings. In the course of a few days the symptoms had assumed such a state as to leave no doubt in the mind of the attending physician, Dr. Owens, of Unionville, that the patient had the small-pox! The entire neighborhood was alarmed for their safety and immediate action taken to prevent the spread of the contagion by thorough vaccination and recourse to a rigid vegetable diet.
The unfortunate woman was removed to an old hut down on the Drowned Lands, on Meeker’s Island, where she was left in the charge of her would-be husband, Buckeye Seeley, and the daily visits of the physician.
On Friday noon last she died and scarcely had the death groan escaped her lips ere the attendant hastily threw a blanket over the face of the dying woman and fled an outcast to the mountain near by, leaving the corpse alone liable to become food for the prowling cats and dogs infesting the swamp in the vicinity and spread the disease throughout the surrounding country.
Hon. Peter Hoyt, the Poor Master of this township, on learning the state of affairs set about the preparations for the burial of the neglected body, and two persons who had passed through a fit of sickness from the malady, were engaged to do the job for $30 on Saturday night. But on their friends learning their intentions they were prevailed upon to back down. Two more persons were engaged on Sunday with a like result. Sunday passed by without anything being done. Monday came and still the body had not been interred. The corpse had now been left rotting four days in the old hut, open to the access of dogs, cats, rats, and everybody; the people of the whole township became alarmed. Finally the Town Committee got together and were compelled to submit to the diction of public opinion and two persons obtained to do the job for $150. On Monday afternoon the parties engaged, repaired to the old hut. A grave was busily dug near the door, the bed and contents thrown therein—the body without coffin or shroud—and speedily covered up. Thus ends the frightful scene.
TROUBLES OF OUR POOR MASTER
THE WHYS AND WHEREFORES
Mr. Hoyt, the Poor Master of this township recites his experience in trying to secure the burial of the woman as follows:
To the citizens of Wantage Township and whom it may concern, generally:—I was notified by Noah Bross that Dr. Owen, of Unionville, had a patient sick with the small-pox, a resident of this township, and requested that I authorize a physician to attend her. This was on the 13th inst. I at once set out for Unionville in a company of Samuel Dennis, Esq. We saw Dr. Owen and authorized him to attend the patient at $3.50 per called, and furnish whatever was necessary for her comfort. On Friday night about 8 o’clock I received a telegram that the patient, Mrs. Mary Butler-Seeley was dead, and I must have her body buried at once. I procured a coffin the next morning and took it up and put it in a wagon house about a mile from the old hut. Meantime I called upon Malone Hewitt to know what he would charge to bury the body. He stated he would go for $15. Lewis Herter being by, said he wouldn’t do it for $25. Wm. Emmons said it was worth $50. I then called to see O.J. Little, one of the Town Committee but he was gone away: I then got Giles Van Riper to go along with me to dig the grave at the Slauson burying ground; called on Jas. Post, one of the Trustees of said grounds but could not get permission to inter the corpse there. We then went to get Tut. Dunn but he was gone away and we were unsuccessful. Called on Pet Belcher to get him to bury the corpse. He said he would, but his wife interfered and threatened to drive him from the house if he did so. He therefore decline.
I then went to Unionville and tried to get somebody to do the job there; called on Amasa Potter, who said he would assist for $15. I had also about completed a bargain with an old colored man named “Seneca,” to assist Mr. Potter, when some parties in the corporation interfered and said no man in Unionville would be permitted to have anything to do with the job, and that if any one did so they would not be permitted to come in the place again in six months; giving as a reason, the Deckertown people would have it reported that there were 40 cased of the small-pox in Unionville. So I left for Deckertown, but before leaving I succeeded in gutting Mr. Potter to accompany me—he having agreed to buy the corpse that night if I would get somebody to assist. Engaged Tut Dunn to help Potter for $15. I accordingly left them to do as agreed.
During Sunday forenoon I went up towards Unionville to learn if the job had been performed. Mr Dunn was away from home, Peter said Tut had backed down and would not assist and the job had not been done.
Mr. Potter still said he would do it for $15, if some person could be got to assist. I tried to get 6 or 7 other different persons but failed to get a single person out of the lot. I offered as high was $25 to anyone who would assist; I finally engaged Mr. Hewitt at about 11 o’clock Saturday night to help Potter bury the body, for $25, which was to be done between 3 o’clock and sunrise. At 3 o’clock Mr. Hewitt appeared at my house and requested that I give security for their pay; and call the Town Committee together to guarantee that their bill would not be cut down. I sent for the Committee, who got together about half-past eight Monday morning.
I was ordered out of one of our Deckertown stores for fear I had been near the body and would bring the disease in my clothing. Several persons run at my approach in great fear and tribulation. Now, I had not been within a mile of the body, and was very much mortified as such foolish conduct.
I went to the Crisman House to wait for the action of the Committee, while there, Mr. Stiles, one of the Committee, came along and wanted to know why I didn’t have the corpse buried; said if he were Poor Master he would have had it done three days before. I proposed to the gentlemen that I would resign and give way to him if he could do so much better. He proceeded down street without stating where the Committee would meet, or what they proposed to do. I followed after in about 10 minutes and found the Committee holding a caucus with Mr. Hewitt, by the fence near Esq. Quick’s. Mr. Potter soon put in an appearance before the Committee, when I walked up to ascertain what was going on. The Committee finally agreed to pay Messrs. Potter & Hewitt $150, and requested me to carry them where the coffin had been left about a mile from the corpse, which I did. I believe I have done my duty in the matter, and am led to believe that our tax-payers think so too, by this time. PETER HOYT.
The “hut” of this account is called an “old shanty” in another account, and an “old house” in yet another. And, it is said, when fear of smallpox alarmed the people of Deckertown (Sussex), they threatened to burn down the house.
The mention also of Meeker’s Island being near Van Sickles Station matches with my theory (supported by deeds and other sources) as being the hill surrounded by swamp land East of highway 284 south of Oil City rd.
One of the additional fascinating points of this article is a mention of an “old colored man named ‘Seneca’” in Unionville. This man is Henry Sendica or Santica (1815-1888). That is easy to identify as there were only two African-American families in Unionville at the time; Sendica and Jarvis, both of whom were members of the Presbyterian church.